Blogtober Day 18: Peter Norman

Hey everyone! So, in the last week or so I've been getting comments, emails (!!!) and Facebook messages from family, friends and strangers alike about how much they like my blog. And I gotta say, I'm a little overwhelmed by all the love! While my blog is bigger than it's ever been, it's still comparatively very small and a place for me to let my nerd flag fly. So the fact that people are going out of their way to tell me I'm doing a job (especially people that aren't related to me and therefore, y'know, required to say nice things) is beyond words. If you're one of those people, I thank you from the bottom of my bloggin' heart. :) And if you're not one of those people, don't let the door hit you on the way out. KIDDING! (You're more than welcome to get hit by the door. Ba-dum-tsss.)

Since I'm feeling all sentimental, I thought I'd finally write about the guy who inspired this whole Blogtober shebang. Because if this story doesn't tug on your heartstrings, nothing will.

Hey, remember how there was a white guy on the podium during the black power salute? No? Well, you should. His name is Peter Norman and he deserves to be as famous as Tommie Smith and John Carlos.

I can't find much information about Peter's track career, other than that he was a five-time Australian champion and (obviously) an Olympic silver medalist, breaking the Olympic record in one of his early heats (that time still stands as an Australian record). So he was a great runner, but what you need to know happened after all of that.

After the medalists had all been decided, Tommie Smith and John Carlos knew they wanted to protest on the podium... but John had left his pair of black gloves back at the Olympic village. Peter was the one who suggested they split them and wear one each on alternate hands. But get this -- he wanted to support them but had no means of doing so, so he asked a member of the U.S. rowing team if he could borrow his "Olympic Project for Human Rights" badge. See that round white thing above the Australian logo on his tracksuit? The same one that both Tommie and John are wearing as well?

Racism was awful in 1968, and the OPHR was founded to protest racial segregation, both in society and in sport. But what a lot of people don't tend to realize is that racism in Australia used to be as bad as racism in South Africa; really, really, really bad. Horrendous. So because Peter wore this badge, Australia basically ripped him to shreds.

He was banned from track for several years, and was cut from the Munich 1972 Olympic team despite having times more than strong enough to qualify him. He retired from track immediately afterwards, and eventually suffered from depression, alcoholism and bad health (but ended up recovering from all three). When the Olympics returned to Australia in 2000, even though Peter had been one of Australia's top sprinters, he wasn't invited to attend or take part in any way. When the USOC heard, they flew him to Sydney as part of the American delegation, and "track legends Ed Moses and Michael Johnson treated him like a hero." (See, America? We do some things right.)

Peter died of a heart attack in 2006, and both Tommie Smith and John Carlos delivered eulogies at the funeral and helped carry his coffin. U.S. Track and Field declared the day of his death to be Peter Norman Day; it was the first time this honor had ever been bestowed on a foreign athlete. And it wasn't until 2012 that the Australian parliament offered a formal apology for the way he was treated, and the Australian Olympic Committee did not support the motion.

Athletically, Peter was a complete dark horse for the Olympics and ended up blowing everyone's expectations out of the water. So there's that.

There's also this:

So Carlos and Smith went to Norman and asked him if he believed in human rights. Norman said yes. They asked him if he believed in God. Norman said yes. They told him what they intended to do on the stand and how they were sure that it was the most important thing they would do at the Olympics. Norman said four words that Carlos and Smith would never forget. He said, "I'll stand with you."

And this:

 "I believe that every man is born equal and should be treated that way," Norman told reporters after the [medal] ceremony.

Just a white Australian dude supporting the protest of a couple of black Americans and having his life destroyed for it.

But while Peter's story is incredibly sad, it's also an amazing story of a man brave enough to stand up for what he believed was right despite all consequences, and of relationships forged across continents and cultural barriers based on respect.

Whew, that got a little heavy there. Just trying to spread some love to counteract all the hate he experienced during his life. But tongue will be firmly back in cheek tomorrow, I promise! Oh, and to end on a super positive note...

Read that post here!

*squeals uncontrollably*

Blogtober Day 12: Emil Zatopek

This is this little blog's 150th post! Hooray! Another pretty momentous occasion, so we'll celebrate with another pretty momentous athlete.

If there's one runner whose name you know, it should be Emil Zatopek.

Emil is known as the Czech Locomotive, and for good reason. He was breaking Czechoslovakian records as early as 1944 but, y'know, there were no Olympics that year for war reasons. At the London Olympics in 1948, he won gold in the 10,000m (only his second race ever in that event) and silver in the 5,000m. The next year, he broke the 10,000m world record twice and set multiple records in the 5,000m, 20,000m, one-hour run (because apparently that was a thing?), 25,000m and 30,000m. He won gold at the 1950 European Championships in the 5,000m and 10,000m.

But the coolest thing Emil did was at the 1952 Olympics, where he won three gold medals. His first two came in the 5,000m and 10,000m, in which he broke both Olympic records and, in the 5,000m, went from fourth to first in the final lap. His final medal came in the marathon, which he decided to compete in at the last minute... and it was the first marathon of his life. And he broke the Olympic record. HOW?

In 2013, the editors at Runner's World Magazine named Emil the Greatest Runner of All Time. So, uh, there's that.

As if you needed another reason to care, Emil happened to also be an awesome guy. He spoke six languages and was incredibly outgoing and friendly, which meant he was constantly hosting foreign athletes that he'd befriended at competitions at his home. In 1968, Australian runner Ron Clarke came to stay. Emil knew that Clarke admired him and, though he held numerous records, always fell short of winning an Olympic gold medal. After the visit, Emil gave Clarke the gold medal he won in the 10,000m in Helsinki 1952.

That right there, my friends, is a quality human being.

(I'm trying out a signature for the first time! What do we think of it? The peace-love-Olympics idea came from my friend Ingrid, who's thinking about starting her own blog. :D So consider this me publicly telling her to get on it!)

Blogtober Day 6: Seb Coe

Seb Coe's life reads like a movie. He's widely considered one of the best (if not the best) British runners of all time; his rivalry with fellow Brit Steve Ovett dominated track for much of the 1980s. He set eight outdoor and three indoor world records in middle-distance track events – including, in 1979, setting three world records in 41 days – and the world record he set in the 800m in 1981 remained unbroken until 1997 (and still stands as the UK record and makes him the third fastest ever at that distance). He was the first person to hold world records for the 800m, 1500m and the mile simultaneously, and is the only athlete ever to rank No. 1 in the world at the 800m and 1500m at the same time. He won four Olympic medals -- two golds in the 1500m and two silvers in the 800m -- in 1980 and 1984, becoming the first and only runner to win two consecutive Olympic titles in the 1500m.

Seb retired from athletics in 1990, and within two years was elected as Member of Parliament for Falmouth and Camborne for the Conservative Party, a position he held until 1997. In 2000, he was created a Life Peer in Surrey -- I don't know what that even involves, but now he can properly be referred to as Lord Coe AND Baron Coe. (Now, how does he write his name with so many fancy titles? Lord Baron Sebastian Coe? Baron Lord Sebastian Coe? Sebastian Coe, the incredibly successful? #struggles)

After Lord Baron Supreme Ruler Demigod Coe finished up his career in politics, he decided to re-enter the sports world. He joined the board for the London 2012 Olympic bid company... and, when the chairman resigned, he assumed her position because of all of his Olympic renown and connections. As we all know, the bid was successful, and then Seb became the chairman of the London Organizing Committee for the Olympic Games. So basically, we owe a huge chunk of the London 2012 Olympics to this guy. And following the Olympics, Seb was appointed chairman of the British Olympic Association.

Have other such high-profile athletes gone on to such high-profile positions in the Olympic movement? If so, they're very few and very far between. Seb is an incredibly important sports figure both on the track and off, and it's a shame that he took the world by storm during the boycotted Moscow 1980 Olympics so most Americans had no idea.

Now all he needs is to become a knight.

...And I'm Back!

This is my third blog in four days. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. :P

Yesterday, I spent most of the day volunteering at the track meet. It’s probably a good thing that I was out and doing things – I was distracted and didn’t have the time (or the privacy) to be sulky.

I got to the Hecht Athletic Center at 10 am, where I met Dani, the athletic department intern that’s in charge of volunteers. She took me and the other girl that was there, Kadisha (not sure of the spelling), back into the gym to get our t-shirts and assignments.



I think I know what I’m wearing when I go to a day of track in London next summer! ;)

There were three other guys that were volunteering in the gym when we got there. They ended up getting assigned to the hammer throw, and Kadisha and I were sent to javelin. There are a couple of high schools that send the kids on their track teams to volunteer at our meets, so most volunteers were high school kids. Our assignment was to retrieve the javelins after they were thrown, and then run them back to the athletes. There were a ton of high schoolers assigned with us, so I wasn’t really doing as much as I would’ve liked.

These kids were a trip, though! It was really just one girl in particular. Let me give you a taste.

Her: What’s your culture?
Me: …What?
Her: Your culture.
Me: …I’m not really sure what you’re asking.
Her: Okay, see. I’m African-American. [Turns to another girl] You are…
Other girl: Hispanic.
Her: And YOU are…
Me: …White?
Her: [bursts out laughing]
Me: Um, I’m sorry, I don’t know what you want me to say. I’m white.
Other girl: Do you want another name for it? Ummm… European? Caucasian?
Her: SEE! Okay, there you go!
Other girl: [whispers to me] Don’t worry about her. She’s crazy.

I was honestly a little bit afraid of her. Not in the I’m-going-to-do-everything-you-tell-me-to-do-ma’am kind of way, but in the oh-god-everybody-does-everything-she-tells-them-to-do kind of way. She’s the bossiest girl I’ve ever encountered, and the other five girls that had the same assignment were like dogs on a leash. “Tink, it’s your turn!” “Emily, you want to go up further than that.” – I swear, she was the ultimate queen bee. But the best was when she grabbed my arm and tried to shove me into the throwing area to pick up a javelin.

No, she wasn’t trying to kill me. She just thought it was my turn to go and apparently really wanted me to get there super fast. So she took my elbow, yelled “IT’S YOU!” and shoved me in the right direction.

It WASN’T my turn, though, so Kadisha was already running to get it. So I turned to this 15-year-old girl who thought she could boss me around and said, “Please don’t touch me. Just tell me next time. But seriously, don’t touch me.”

I think I handled myself rather well, considering I kind of wanted to hit her all day.

The women’s event was first. We got a break in between, when Kadisha and I helped Dani put ice into some coolers, and then had lunch before the men’s event. The girls were in awe of one thrower from UConn. It was adorable, they were like his groupies! After the men were done, we got another break. Kadisha and I watched some high jumping. Miami has no javelin throwers, so it was nice to see an event with some orange and green!

Then it started raining (read: making you wonder where Noah and his ark were), and the day kind of went downhill from there. Kadisha left at 3:30 to go to work, and I was stuck in the gym until the rain let up and I could leave. Dinner got there at 4:15, though, so I got more free food! And I talked with Dani a little bit about her internship. She says they like hiring people that are genuinely interested in getting involved (i.e. volunteer), and she said she’d put me in touch with her boss about doing more volunteer work in the future.

In typical south Florida fashion, the rain stopped, and it was sunny again when I was walking back to Pearson. The puddles on US 1 were almost as high as the curb in some places, and I was thinking about how funny it would be if a car drove by and soaked me. Andddd then it almost happened! It was a pleasant fellow in a large truck speeding down the road and not caring that he was potentially drenching a pedestrian. Luckily I was able to dodge out of the way, and he only soaked my calves. Miami drivers – gotta love ‘em! (Not.)

I got back to my room at 5:30, and I was DISGUSTING. I don’t know how people live in Miami during the summer! I had to get dinner before work at 7, but I showered anyway. I really have to start remembering that volunteering isn’t the most glamorous of jobs. I’ve now officially frozen my butt off and lost my weight in sweat all in the name of experience. The all-access privileges are rather fun, though!



But it was really exciting being in the presence of Coach Deem! I saw her a bunch of times throughout the day, but I didn’t talk to her. I kinda figured she’d be a little bit busy, ya know, coaching track and field and all. Kadisha said she has friends on the track team who say Coach Deem is “ruthless.” Really? The nice lady that talked on the phone with me when she was walking her dog is ruthless?





If you say so!

All in all, I was feeling pretty okay… until I went to work. Hearing about other people that’ve worked at the wellness center for half as long as me getting promoted was NOT fun. For the first time in my life, I had to take a walk so I wouldn’t do or say something I’d regret. Luckily, roaming the gym is a part of the job, and after a few laps, I’d calmed down and decided to just ask my boss what’s up.

Susanna, the leader on my shift, actually calmed me down pretty well. It was good hearing “it’s just the gym” from someone. I knew that it’s just the gym, but actually hearing it kind of made it make more sense. It’s more of a pride issue, I guess.

But it’s okay! I have the newspaper going for me! I’m the opinion editor next semester, and I’m super excited about it! :) I’d take that over being fitness leader any day. So, wellness center? I’ve got two words for ya!

Something finally clicked as I was walking back from work. I’d decided to do all sorts of happy things for myself – namely, eat chocolate, watch Castle, and sleep a lot. So I stopped and got a brownie at the C-store, and as I was walking down Stanford Drive and looking up at the moon, I felt this really random flicker of optimism. Out of nowhere, I decided that I’m okay. Everything’s going to be fine. I just needed my 24-ish hours to be sad, get mad, and gear up for round two.

What does round two entail, you ask? I emailed SNY about helping with Mets games against the Marlins at Sun Life Stadium towards the end of the season, when I’m back in Miami. I emailed USA Swimming to thank them for the opportunity, tell them I’m still very interested in the position, and ask what I could’ve done that would’ve made me a better candidate. I’m going to email Dani about speaking to her boss. I’m going to email the executive director of the Miami-Dade County Special Olympics about volunteering in the fall. My mom sent me info about other internships that I’m going to look into ASAP.

And then there’s Svein. There’s a communications internship with USA Figure Skating that he told me about. Unfortunately, it’s for an academic year, which I wouldn’t be able to do if I want to graduate on time, which I told him. But then he said he’s close friends with the head honcho over there, and he’ll ask him if I can intern for a shorter amount of time.

I’m not sure what I did to deserve all these favors he’s doing for me. I thank him in every single email I send to him, and I feel like a broken record, but what do I even say to things like this?! The thank you card I’m going to send to him when this is all resolved won’t even scratch the surface of my gratitude. So Svein, if there’s even the slightest chance that you’re reading this, thank you from the bottom of my heart!

And thank you to everyone that’s been so supportive these last few days. I truly appreciate every call, text, email, comment, wall post, and tweet. I’m so lucky to have you all in my corner!

I think the biggest sign of my improvement happened today, when I successfully listened to Good Life without wanting to do harm to my iPod, and was able to look at my Olympics calendar (April, of course, features swimmers) without giving it the death glare. Success!

And so concludes the most bipolar three days of my life. Bring on the monotony of classes!